


"you could have told me you knew about the mountain-sized crush I have on you"

by elainebarrish



Category: Political Animals, Political Lesbians
Genre: F/F, HARD, but interesting, finding this writing in second person thing really interesting, omg like three fics in less than 48 hours what am I doing, which I guess is why I've written so much fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:45:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elainebarrish/pseuds/elainebarrish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Spending everyday with Elaine Barrish is exactly the dream it sounds like, and often as you wake up on wonderfully soft hotel sheets you have to pinch yourself to check you're not dreaming, and you’re of the opinion that the only thing that could make this better was if you were waking up in her hotel room, instead of yours."</p>
            </blockquote>





	"you could have told me you knew about the mountain-sized crush I have on you"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bedfordfalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedfordfalls/gifts), [you must be sick of me by now omg I'm so sorry](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=you+must+be+sick+of+me+by+now+omg+I%27m+so+sorry).



You’re not even paying attention the moment she chooses to look over, you’re too busy trying to get another quote from another random someone, another quote that you probably won’t use because you always end up just using hers, something that Alex has started to notice. No matter which quotes you get at an event, the ones you end up choosing are always hers, if only because you’re always received with a soft smile and a new glass of something, and she seems to know exactly what you’re looking for, exactly what angle you were probably going to choose for your article.

Alex isn’t the only that’s starting to question, starting to wonder why you’ve gone from her most vocal opponent to apparently the treasurer of her fan club, and the paper’s been getting a lot of letters that Alex doesn’t know how to answer, because you don’t know what to tell him. How do you explain that it went from an assignment to something much more than that, that the time you’ve spent with Elaine is something that you’re going to treasure for the rest of your life, even in the midst of a messy breakup, even with all the stupid decisions you managed to make. But now you’re here, you’re circling a room of important people that Elaine is winning over to her campaign, and you know you’re going back to the same hotel as her, as her party, and that you’re all heading to the same place tomorrow.

Spending everyday with Elaine Barrish is exactly the dream it sounds like, and often as you wake up on wonderfully soft hotel sheets you have to pinch yourself to check you're not dreaming, and you’re of the opinion that the only thing that could make this better was if you were waking up in her hotel room, instead of yours.

You get drawn back into the conversation, smiling and writing things down, trying not to think about her, trying not to glance over at her. You love her at these events, at the way she dominates a room. She’s so powerful and you’re so aware of it, and you never realised that would be something that you’d find attractive on someone, it's something that has turned you away previously, something that you can't stand in a man. You realise that's probably where the distinction lies, how your taste in men and your taste in women are different, although typically unattainable seems to be a theme.

It's not until she's there, handing you a glass of champagne and stealing your notebook, writing down some quotes for you with a smile, that you realise you missed her for the hour or so you've been circling the room, that you just missed looking at her. You realise that you've fallen further than you ever intended, even further than last time you realised that very same thing. She's laughing and she's speaking and you're not paying attention, you're just smiling at her because you can't make yourself stop, soaking up any and all attention she gives you.  
"These quotes should be enough," she's saying, still smiling at you like you're the only person in the room. "I'd suggest you go and get an early night, we're getting up painfully early tomorrow."  
"Again?" You whine, but you're already following her to the elevators, knowing your room is only a few doors down from hers.  
"Of course, no rest for us," she's smiling again and you're struck with the fact that she does that a lot with you, more than she ever used to. You're struck with a kind of inevitability as you follow her into the lift, struck with this feeling that you know things aren't going to change. You're handed back your notepad and you notice that she's drawn a smiley face and you roll your eyes, even though it might just be the cutest thing you've ever seen. You resolve to keep that page of your little notebook, even though you swore you were going to stop doing that, as these days she ends up writing on every page. You're not really paying attention, just looking at her in the reflective surface of the elevator door, and she's looking right back at you. She's caught you looking enough times to know, must realise you follow her around like a lost puppy for a reason.

She's waiting for something, you realise, as she looks back at you with an intensity you'd got used to but didn't expect, was unprecedented with the way she treated everyone else. You're the only person she looks at like that, and it reminds you of how you look at her, when you think she's not looking. You realise she's always been looking and seeing and that she /knows/ has always known. You were not subtle, never have been, and she's known that you've wanted to wake up in her bed for months, practically years. Your eyes are widening and she's maybe smirking at you a little, and you want to roll your eyes.  
"Couldn't you have just told me?"  
"Told you what?" she tries, stepping out of the lift into the hallway, leading the way to your room.  
"That you knew," you tried helplessly, scared to say it aloud.  
"Knew what?" she continues teasing, voice deeper than usual, pleasantly seductive.  
"That you knew about the mountain sized crush I have on you," you sigh, relieved to get out, regardless of what that means.  
“Mountain sized?” she asks, grinning again. “I’m flattered, but really, I’ve known since before I think you did, since you were winning that Pulitzer for complaining about my being married to someone else.”  
“That is not what I -” you start, interrupted by her stopping in front of your door, turning to you with a raised eyebrow. “Of course it wasn’t.” She’s still smiling but it’s more predatory, and it makes you want to lean against the door for support, the door you’ve somehow ended up almost pressed against, caught by trying to keep an appropriate amount of space between the two of you in the dim corridor.  
“Susan,” she murmurs, and steps closer, so that you pressed between the door and her, and you’re still thinking about that when she leans down, tipping your chin up with her left hand, kissing you softly, smiling when you wrap your arms around her neck, hands slipping around your waist. You’re breathless when you pull apart, and both of you are grinning, even though kissing in a hotel corridor isn’t exactly how you had planned for this to go, it had looked a lot more like an accident while you were celebrating her becoming president.  
“I hadn’t expected this already, I’d expected for once you were seated in the white house,” you murmured, smiling, arms still wrapped around her neck.  
“I’d been expecting that as well,” she admitted, smile matching yours. “But I also couldn’t wait; I’ve been aiming smouldering looks at you for weeks.”  
“I’d noticed, and I’d been ignoring it.”  
“You kept on looking over your shoulder, as though you were expecting there to be someone behind you,” she laughed quietly, deep in her throat, and you found yourself opening the door to your room, pulling her in after you.


End file.
